


If Wishes Were Fishes

by Engineer104



Series: (Un)reliable with the Ladies [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beaches, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Pidge's first time at the beachFor Lance Loves Ladies Week, Day 5: Beach / Rain





	If Wishes Were Fishes

**Author's Note:**

> I try for melancholy but I'm not sure I give melancholy
> 
> (Also I originally tried writing allurance for this prompt but my muse still insisted on plance)

They are hundreds - even thousands - of lightyears from Earth when Pidge sees a beach for the first time.

She and Lance stand on a black-sand beach on a volcano-riddled planet without a name, staring out at a saltwater ocean for the first time in over two years, eyes thirstily drinking in the sight.

They both took off their helmets as soon as the atmosphere was confirmed safe to breathe, and the boots from their armor is discarded a few meters behind them, letting their bare feet sink into the soft black sand.

The planet is uninhabited, but it doesn't lack for native life. Something resembling kelp or seaweed washes up on the beach, and about three doboshes ago Lance pointed out something in the ocean breaching for air, a spray of water bursting from the surface like a geyser.

All in all, it looks peaceful in the way old photographs of Hawaii look peaceful, an ideal vacation spot entirely devoid of tourists, a yellow sun sparkling on an ocean reflecting the blue sky, and in the distance behind them a volcano with a snowy peak at odds with the warmth of day.

Lance has that strange, soft melancholy on his face, the look he gets when he's thinking hard about home. So Pidge starts stripping herself free of her armor, piling the individual pieces nearby on the sand, all the way down to the black under-armor.

"Let's go for a swim," she suggests, glancing sideways at Lance.

Lance looks at her, a smile on his lips and a familiar spark in his eyes. And then he follows suit, his armor in a pile next to hers.

"Should we call the others?" Pidge wonders, looking over her shoulder towards where the Castle landed, awaiting much needed repairs.

Lance shrugs, but he walks towards the water, stopping right when the tide laps at his feet. And he says, "I kinda want this moment to myself right now."

His back is to her, so she can't see his face. "You...want me to go?" she asks, dreading an affirmative answer.

"What?" Lance says, facing her. "No, 'course not. Pidge, _this moment_ includes you." He lurches forward without taking his feet from the water and grabs her by the wrists, tugging her towards him.

Pidge goes without protest, unable to keep herself from smiling, but she gasps when she feels how cold the water is. "What the HELL!" she screeches, hopping back until her bare feet only touch damp sand.

Lance laughs. "Yeah, it's not warm like back home," he says, "but it's good enough for now." He takes one step backwards, pulling Pidge with him.

Reluctantly, Pidge lets the cold saltwater cover one foot, then the other, gritting her teeth in discomfort. "I think I want to put my armor back on," she says, her eyes fixed on her feet. She marvels at how clear the water is though, and can even see tiny, bristly fish investigating, a few nibbling at her toes so softly she can't feel it.

"No, it's _really_ not that bad," Lance says, pulling them in a little deeper. The gentle waves lap at his knees while the water already comes up to mid-thigh for Pidge, even though she's now level with him, at the same depth.

Pidge twists her hands so she can grasp Lance's wrists, tightly. She's heard about rip current, and though so far the waves have been kind and calm (this planet has no moon to generate severe tides), she's never swam in anything more open than a swimming pool.

"I've never been to the beach before," she admits to Lance.

"Seriously?" Lance says, glancing at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously," she says. "I do know how to swim, at least."

"That's a tragedy, Pidge." Lance tugs her just a bit closer, so that their feet brush underwater and his warm, even breaths land on her forehead. "Can't say I'm not flattered though."

"I'm glad my _tragedy_ is making you _grateful_ ," Pidge says, rolling her eyes.

"Please," says Lance, letting go of one of her hands to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "It's not every day a guy gets to pop his girlfriend's beach cherry."

Pidge disentangles herself from his arm, drops his wrist, and shoves him in the chest. Lance flails wildly as he falls over, submerging with a splash, his head going under. He pops back up quickly though, spluttering as he stands.

Pidge laughs, at least until Lance grabs her by the waist and flips her over his shoulder before she can do much more than frantically yell his name.

She gets a mouthful and noseful of saltwater for her trouble as she submerges, but she managed to pinch her eyes shut at the last minute, at least. But what shocks her the most is the cold...until she adjusts and it doesn't seem so bad anymore.

She thrashes around for a second, until her feet land on the loose silty sand beneath, and she stands, her head breaching the surface. Pidge coughs, trying to get water from her lungs and relieve the unpleasant burning in her throat. Her hair, longer than it used to be, drips water into her face and down her back, and she crosses her arms, glaring at Lance, who, in a reversal of before, laughs uproariously.

Pidge takes comfort in the fact that he, at least, is just as sodden as she is.

"I'm not so cold anymore," she informs him.

"That's the point, Pidge," he quips. "One dunk and you're good to go, usually." Lance walks out a little further, until the water is at his waste, and he beckons her towards him. "There's hardly any current," he says, his voice a touch disappointed.

Pidge follows. "Good for a beach virgin like me," she tells him once she stands beside him.

"Fair enough," Lance admits, "but some waves would've been nice to get the 'real' beach experience."

Pidge stares sideways at him. "Are you saying this beach isn't real?"

Lance chuckles. "No, but it's...not exactly..." He shrugs, waving a hand to showcase all the vast blue sea around them. "It's not the same."

Pidge wraps her arms around his abdomen and buries her nose in his chest. His arms come around her automatically, holding her close. "I know," she says, voice slightly muffled by the wet fabric of his under-armor.

Lance's body is warm, contrasting with the water that she's at least gotten used to, and she doesn't pull away. Neither does he, so they just stand there, belly-deep and chest-deep in an alien ocean, holding each other.

"You're my home away from home, Pidge," Lance confesses quietly, dragging his fingers through her salty damp hair.

"I know," she tells him again, and it's a lame thing to say, devoid of all the emotions - melancholy, love, worry, and no small amount of fear and determination - flooding through her. But Pidge knows it's good enough for Lance, at least for now.


End file.
